


Power

by destieltrash (orphan_account)



Series: pleasure's a sin and sin's a pleasure [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Internalized Homophobia, Self-Hatred, sort of happy ending?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-01 19:46:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5218490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/destieltrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She finds that this is, in fact, a power struggle, and she can win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power

**Author's Note:**

> have some porn with plot
> 
> with bonus twisted power dynamics

Senior year has started and Lydia wishes Jackson would fuck off.

He's still sweet, still perfect, still completely devoted to her, and, unsurprisingly, still has a dick. Lydia has figured out that she doesn't really like those.

Lydia spends as little time as she can around Jackson. He notices something is wrong, but Lydia avoids him as much as possible.

Lydia realizes how gone she is when she realizes that she doesn't care that she's hurting him.

 

It's a pretty October evening when Lydia calls Jackson for the first time in a month.

"Jackson?"

"Hey, Lyds. I've missed you." Lydia winces at the happiness in his voice.

"Yeah, actually, I called to cancel for tonight," Lydia says after only a moment's hesitation.

Silence.

"I'm sorry, I just have a lot of school stuff to finish." It's a weak lie and they both know it.

"That's fine." His tone is clipped. "I'll see you Monday."

"Bye."

He hangs up without saying goodbye.

Lydia hums as she opens the _Iliad_ and lies back on her bed, Jackson immediately driven from her mind.

 

Allison doesn't show up that evening and Lydia hates herself for wishing she had.

 

On Monday, Jackson avoids Lydia's gaze. That's fine. Allison avoids her, too. Less fine, but it's normal.

What isn't fine, or normal, is Lydia finding herself sitting alone at lunch.

She's at her usual table, but when she looks around, the other perfect, beautiful, straight people are sitting three tables away. Jackson is sitting there, too, and the girls are cooing over him sympathetically and the guys are slapping his back and Lydia thinks she knows what happened.

Fire in her eyes, Lydia stands and stalks out of the cafeteria. It's only when she's in the empty hallway that her shoulders curl forward, her back slumps, her eyes fill with tears.

 She's so stupid. So stupid. This is what she deserves for treating Jackson like this, for loving Allison like this.

Lydia stops in her tracks. It's the first time she's had that thought, loving Allison. The more she thinks about it, the more repulsive is sounds, and the more obvious it is that it's completely true. 

Lydia has never truly wanted to die before. 

She might as well. Her friends hate her, Jackson hates her, and most importantly, Allison hates her. 

Lydia hates herself too. 

"Lydia?"

She starts like she's been shocked and whirls around. A lean boy with hair that stands up and pretty eyes stands several feet away.

It takes less than a second for Lydia to straighten her spine, to blink the tears away, to assume a haughty expression. Stiles looks a little confused by the rapid transition. "Hi," Lydia says. She trails off like she's forgotten his name. 

"Are you okay?" Stiles asks.

Lydia doesn't have time to scoff before she heard a familiar voice shout, "Stiles! C'mon, are we going or not?" Allison, arm in arm with a broad, tall boy with a crooked jaw and a smile like sunlight, appears around the corner. There's a happy smile on her face, one Lydia has never seen. It makes Lydia forget her own wretchedness. 

The lovely smile fades as soon as Allison catches sight of Lydia.

"I'm fine," Lydia tells Stiles. Her voice is not the way it usually is, not lofty and condescending. It's not exactly miserable, because Lydia is a wonderful actress, but it's just normal. Stiles doesn't seem to buy it.

"So, um." Stiles glances at Scott (Lydia hasn't forgotten his name either). "We were planning on going back to my house to watch crappy horror movies. Do- do you want to come?"

Allison's eyes expand almost comically. "Stiles, what are you-" Stiles glares at her. Lydia looks between them and makes eye contact with Stiles, and then Allison.

Lydia holds Allison's gaze as if in a trance. "N-no. Thank you, but I have a test today." Allison looks away, satisfied. Lydia turns and practically runs away.

 

Lydia is doing homework that afternoon when the doorbell rings. Her mother answers.

"Lydia, honey! Your friend is here!" her mother calls cheerfully.

Lydia knows what that means.

Sure enough, Allison comes upstairs. She closes the door and leans against it, staring critically at Lydia. Lydia is sitting cross legged on her bed in a tank top and shorts. Uncomfortable under Allison's scrutiny, Lydia stands and moves forward to kiss Allison.

Allison holds up a hand. Lydia freezes. They never speak during these things.

"Why didn't you go with us today?" Allison asks baldly.

Lydia shrugs. "It didn't seem like you wanted me to."

"Since when are you concerned with what I want?" Allison says sharply.

Lydia crosses her arms, faking confidence. "Sit down," she says. Allison blinks. Lydia never gives commands like that. Lydia is certain her surprise is the main reason that Allison sits on the armchair in the corner of the room.

Lydia doesn't move for a moment, thinking about what she wants to do. Then she walks over to Allison and bends so their faces are level. She meets Allison's curious dark eyes before kissing her.

It's not like it usually is. It's gentle, sweet. Allison is so shocked that her lips are lax against Lydia's. Lydia keeps kissing her, determined to show her exactly how much Lydia is concerned with what Allison wants. Lydia pulls away after another moment, looking steadily into Allison's eyes. Then she kneels in front of Allison, who spreads her legs easily. Lydia lifts Allison's skirt out of the way.

Lydia lays soft kisses along Allison's inner thighs, her lips brushing feather light against Allison's panties. Allison is still. Her breath is shallow. Lydia tugs Allison's panties out of the way.

Lydia can barely believe Allison is letting her have this.

Lydia's movements are slow, deliberate, loving. For once, she's not doing this for some filthy pleasure, or to be close to Allison. Lydia's tongue traces over Allison's folds lightly, and Allison shudders above her. Lydia's tongue moves, slow and teasing, around Allison's clit. Allison lets out a tiny whimper.

Lydia's never heard that noise from Allison, so soft and vulnerable. She's heard groans and curses and shouts and moans, but this pretty little sound is so much better. Lydia makes it her mission in life to extract more of them.

Lydia looks up at Allison, her gaze steady. Allison stares back, her eyes wide and shocked, like she's never seen Lydia before. Her chest is heaving.

Lydia drags the flat of her tongue over Allison's clit, and Jesus, Allison is soaked already and Lydia can't resist dipping her tongue into her for a taste. Allison exhales a quiet moan, and her hand comes down to tangle in Lydia's hair. Lydia waits for her to tighten her grip, to yank, to rough her up, but she doesn't. Her fingers run gently through Lydia's hair. Encouraged, Lydia sucks Allison's clit into her mouth. She traces the letters of her own name on Allison with her tongue and Allison is shaking and moaning above her.

Lydia's tongue slides down, slow, slow, slow, until it's just breaching Allison. Allison is making that pretty whimpering noise and Lydia is euphoric. She pushes deeper and Allison bites her lip to keep from shouting.

Lydia starts a slow, persistent rhythm. With every press of Lydia's tongue, Allison lets out a breathy utterance of "Lydia." Lydia's jaw is sore, but she doesn't even notice.

Lydia lifts a hand, starts to rub Allison's clit in time with her mouth, and that's it. Allison groans, her spine arching as she leans back. "God, Lydia!" Her thighs clench around Lydia's head and Lydia can bask in the triumph of what she's just done. She licks Allison dry and sits back on her heels, looking up at Allison. She's a beautiful sight, eyes closed, skirt up, lips red and bitten. She looks debauched. She looks like she's lost control.

The room is silent for a moment.

"Thank you," Allison says awkwardly. She doesn't mention that that's the fastest she's ever come with Lydia.

Lydia clears her throat. "You're welcome." She doesn't, either.

Allison stands, kicking off her panties. There's a smirk tugging at her lips.

Lydia knows it's time to give up the control she's gained. She gives it away willingly, but they both know she had it, and that's enough.

Maybe a power struggle isn't precisely the recipe for a healthy relationship, but Lydia doesn't really care. Allison gives her what she deserves, and Lydia trusts her with that. If Allison ever violates that trust, then Lydia can quite easily take back control.

Allison is rough with Lydia, but she treats her like she wants her.

Lydia counts that as a victory.


End file.
